Back To December
by Araceli L
Summary: For The Stupendous Jimbo's Romance Contest.


**For the Stupendous Jimbo's Romance Contest: _Back To December_, by ClumsyHeart17.**

A tear, a break, and a cry can mean so much.

They can build someone up, they can raze someone effortlessly, they can be the starting point, they can be the last sentence of the story.

The things people say are irreversible. Once the words are out, they're never coming back.

In that sense, words are like birds: you let it escape, and then you can never catch it.

But as long as they're in a solid cage, they're safe.

* * *

The sky sparkled like a firework from its stars that freckled the earth below. A young man paced beneath it, his hand on his chin as he shook his head in disbelief.

This was never supposed to happen. This wasn't the plan. This shouldn't have happened to him. To them.

A single tear leaked from his blue eye and trickled to the uncaring ground. He brushed it away impatiently, ashamedly.

He thought about running back and begging. He thought about coldly retrieving the ring.

Abruptly he dropped to the ground and laid there, searching the skies above for the answers she so solidly denied him.

Why?

* * *

Seven years to that day, a beautiful woman walked through the same trail as the depressed young man had. Nowadays, they weren't exactly young people – he was twenty-nine and she twenty-seven. Everything had changed since then, and she was terrified of facing her fears.

She nimbly wound her way up the twisting path, nervously chewing on the inside of her cheek. She stepped over a few fallen branches, her mind spinning her back to seven years earlier…

The day she'd first met him: his deep laugh, echoing around her and throughout her mind for the rest of the month; his bright eyes, so much more compassionate than any she'd ever seen before; the stirring feeling she'd instantly rejected. It'd been summer then.

Autumn had arrived in a blaze of swirling leaves and mysterious joy. Every time they'd touched, her heart had stopped. Finally, after multiple reflections and questions, she'd realized she loved him…

And then the cold came; winter crept in with its crippling chill and darkening doubts. That one night…

She closed her eyes and wept, as she had nearly every night recently. She almost lost control, but she pulled herself together with him in mind. Breathing in deeply and shakily, she continued up the unworn path.

She reached the meeting point and was crestfallen by his absence. However, she waited patiently. She wouldn't blame him if he didn't come. She still hadn't even forgiven herself. But if earning his forgiveness meant waiting for it, she would wait forever.

Just as the cold began to seep to her bones, he stepped out of the trees. His silhouette looked exactly as it had the last time she saw him; of course, the last time she'd seen him had been as she ran away. Ran away like a coward from everything that scared her, to chase every unrealistic dream she knew could never become reality…

His cloak sashayed behind him as he neared her; her breath caught in her throat and tears pricked her eyes. Banishing them in a stern blink, she smiled weakly and awkwardly as he approached. As his handsome features became clearer, she studied the details anxiously. Impressively, they looked nothing different from the first time she'd seen him: impassive, strong, and unfathomable.

Yet she knew there was a passionate man behind his blunt manner. She'd seen his warm smile, the way he'd held her in his arms that unexpected night. It was the first time he'd shown any sort of emotion; it was the first time she'd seen his true character. It was the first time he saw her scared, burned, broken.

He'd never hurt her. He'd never made her cry.

And all she'd done was hurt him.

He stopped in front of her, just close enough to touch, but of course she dared not. His expression remained unchanged, though his once-loving eyes appraised her shrewdly. In a craven manner she dropped her gaze, embarrassed color collecting in her cheeks. However, it was not like way back then, when every blush had warmed her heart.

She was thankful that, at least, he was giving her another chance. Obviously it wouldn't be like it had been, nor would anything be the same; but she'd received another chance. It would never be what she longed so resolutely for, but it was still something. And besides, it was probably all she would ever get now.

She shivered, still staring at the ground, her heart as dead and hopeless as the plants in the soil. She wanted to wipe her nose, stabilize her trembling, and paint her face into a peaceful façade. If she could change everything, anything…

Wordlessly he draped his cape around her shoulders. He glimpsed her grateful expression, and then looked away. She realized he still wasn't ready to forgive – nor should he be.

But she was here to attempt to set things right – if not perfect, or forgiven, just right.

She spoke first, asking timidly if a walk would be in order. He suggested around the trail, and she could only nod. The sound of his voice acted like a laceration from his own sword: she gasped painfully and endeavored to compose herself. He didn't react.

The grass snapped under their heavy footfalls as they strolled through the forest, the mood somber and awkward. She was again the first to speak, and a bit of small talk was traded between them. How was everything going? How was Marth? She hadn't been in contact with him for a while. Oh, Marth was doing great, as was he. He'd been very busy lately. His work? His work was demanding, as always, and he hated being away from home. Yes, the weather was rather chilly lately. Not very surprising for December.

This died out quite quickly, and a tense silence spanned between the couple. They walked on, gazing about themselves deliberately, looking anywhere but each other. She knew what she needed to say – she just didn't know how.

His guard was up, and she knew why – as they trudged through the snow, they reached the place. The clearing where she'd admitted what she was truly feeling stood in front of them – though they both knew everything she'd proclaimed had been such a lie.

Her heart sank, and she was back in December:

His face as he realized she was breaking his heart; every excuse she'd spit disdainfully at him; the way she saw him crumble on the inside; her own mind corrupted by contempt and conviction.

Tears began to fall from the blond woman's emerald eyes, but she didn't try to hold them back. They welled hotly in the corners of her eyes, the only heat she'd get beside his cape.

When she'd flung the diamond ring to the ground, where it had lay glittering in the desolate snow, she hadn't known the mistake she was making; his contorted expression as he stared at her in harrowed amazement and the utmost pain she'd ever seen; his insists of her wrongdoing; the way she'd laughed wickedly, asking if he thought he was irreplaceable; his horrified and broken tears as he gazed pleadingly at her. That look was the one that tormented her now as they slowed in the clearing. He seemed to know her idea; he knew her too well.

Indeed, he let her go on ahead as she crumpled to the ground, choked sobs escaping from her without any supplication. He watched her, his face completely expressionless. Her fingers desperately clutched the snow, burning with cold, numbing, turning red. She couldn't have cared less. She hated how weak she was appearing. But she cried her heart out there in the frostbitten forest, just in an attempt to show him her utter regret.

Seven years ago to this day, the moon had shone brightly and happily. Despite its cheerful beam, Samus had walked alongside Ike restlessly. She was strained and agitated, partly from self-restraint, partly from second-guessing. A terse conversation later, he'd knelt to the ground, and her jaw had dropped. Honestly…it had to be that night…

In her abrupt fury at his timing, she'd taken the proposal and chucked it to the ground, and the regret that caused her absolute Hell since then unfolded.

Finally she stood up, his cloak billowing around her comfortingly. Her face was blotchy and red as her frozen fingers. However, as she locked gazes with him, he was transported to another year…

The year they'd met, when she'd meant everything to him. How precious it was to see her smile. How amazing it was to hear her laugh, how indescribable it was to be kissed by her. She was the most worthy woman in the entire world, and she'd chosen him, the most undeserving of them all…

But that had been long ago. Long before insomnia wrecked him and the words she'd cried with such venom haunted him as he stared out into the night. Her expression as she ran from him, her claim of freedom…

Now he stared lackadaisically at her, as cool as could be, yet it pierced her far more than an angry gaze would have. His complete withdrawal from her was the last thing she had ever wanted, though seven years ago, it had been her excuse for her fear.

Water continued to stream down her face, but she drew in her frosty breath and began her speech:

Here she was, standing in front of him, no matter how much it hurt. She was swallowing her pride, all her pain, because she wanted to be on good terms with him again. She was horrified at what she had done, and she was sorry. Yes, sorry; she knew it would never be enough, but even if she performed endless acts of remorse it wouldn't ever be enough. Now, every night was a sleepless one, and every morning she was tortured by the things she'd said and the things she'd done. Again, she was so, _so _incredibly and terribly sorry for that awful night…every day she prayed that she could go back and change it; she would go back to December and change her own mind. The things they'd had when she'd been with him were beautiful…why she couldn't have realized it at the time, she wondered that every day. Everything she had said about freedom…

She didn't take her eyes away from his as she spoke, nor could she had she wanted to. His motionless gaze was still phlegmatic, and it continued to injure her more than she'd thought. But ultimately he had to show some sort of recognition of the confession she was making; and he did so as her worthless apology rolled off her tongue. He flinched, breaking the stoic look in his eyes. A small sort of relief quenched some of her rueful thirst, but barely. His guard was as strong as he, and he sealed up the crack as she began to despair again. Bravely she regained her voice for his well-deserved apology, but it died anew as her main excuse presented itself to the expectant clearing.

Finally he was human again: he smiled mirthlessly, wryly. In that voice that called up her anguish more distinctively than before, he repeated her last word. It rang around the frigid meadow, as his grim smile disappeared along with his composure; he cried out, banging his fist into a tree, demanding why she had done it. Why? What had her 'freedom' led her to?

Her pathetic tears were about to jump, dangling from her eyelashes, solidifying there while they waited. She was planted to the earth as he stormed about the small pasture. She knew this was not her time to explain, even as he hurled question after accusation at her. She took it all in regret and humility; there was not an allegation that could be proved false. Her actions had been inexcusable, unforgiveable, unforgettable…did she really know all the sorrow she had caused him? Could she ever _begin _to comprehend the pain he'd suffered? She had been the only thing that meant anything to him…even now, she was still the only thing he would die for, he would give his all for...

And all this was vanishing, sacrificed for her 'freedom.'

In words as broken as her heart, she told him the reason she'd come back: as it turned out, freedom was nothing but missing him.

Her words hung in the air as he halted, his breath coming in short increments of opaque air. She could do nothing but watch as he turned slowly to her. His lovely face was distorted with nothing less than bewilderment. She couldn't exactly fathom why; this wasn't the first time today she'd told him she was sorry. But maybe it was the severity of her words: she admitted her largest lie, her biggest excuse, had been her greatest downfall and folly. Maybe he understood it now.

That night, he'd said some beautiful things. Before she'd so cruelly and irrationally crushed his dreams and what should have been hers, his proposal had been dazzling, breathtaking…

He'd said how the ring had meant his undying love for her. It stood for everything she was: goodness, courage, loyalty, beauty, _love._With that ring he intended to wed her; with that ring Ike had wanted to keep Samus in his arms forever, because he had known then what she didn't understand until now: one would never be content without the other.

He pulled his gentle, trained hand through his navy hair. She had always admired his tousled hair. It was adorable, attractive, and unusual. Everything about him was alluring, passionate, and righteous. He had been so good to her, so right…

He had really been the one.

If only she could go back to December, if only she could change one thing…

In an honest state of shock, he walked up to her, unconscious of his action. Her face must have somewhat mirrored his, plenary bafflement and disbelief. She stared into his eyes, trying to get him to comprehend her regret.

His lips were useless as he tried to form a word, because her confession had left him speechless. Maybe it was rue that silenced him so totally.

He shut his eyelids, his face white. In a daze, she listened as he murmured her name, reluctant to let it go. Lost in her woe and compunction, it still hurt when he spoke, but not as much.

Then through the stifling cold and bitter snowflakes, she felt something warm grasp her hand. In astonishment she released her gaze from his and directed it at her fingers. There Ike's hand was holding hers gently, softly; she could only gape.

As his voice had acted like a blade twisting through her, his grip healed it instantaneously.

After a while, she gathered the nerve to glance up. The instant she saw his face, she knew something was different. It was not harsh or confused anymore. Instead it was as beautiful as seven years ago.

His rugged thumb brushed across the top of her hand, but it was not as it had long ago. It did not secretly spell out affection or passion; instead, it was consoling and forgiving. Now his expression caught up with his action: his eyes were compassionate, but she could see the dolor there, the grief that would eternally rest in his eyes from her decision. She was sure it would always be in her too.

The ring she should have worn seven years ago sparkled on her fourth finger now as she pulled her arms around his neck; he noticed it with contrition as he wrapped his strong arms around her. Sorrow emanated from the hugging couple, repentance for everything that had happened flowing into him from her final tears.

If only, if only…

A voice bellowed Ike's name, a young voice, high and innocent. Its owner's footsteps were pit-pattering up the path, and Samus saw the surprise on Ike's face transform into anxiety as they parted. Not quite understanding, she watched in curiosity, but the knot in her stomach was twirling painfully at his worry.

A child burst into the clearing, and immediately she understood. She caught her only love's look at her as he scooped up the little boy into his arms, kissing his face lovingly. Instantly she turned away, before the tears could shame her, before she ripped out her stupid heart for all the agony it was causing her.

As Ike embraced his son, another person called his name, and Samus could hear the laughter in her voice. It was the voice of an angel, also one she knew well, one that flew on mirth and good times, that rejoiced in her happy life and contentedness. Everything Samus had once had, could have had now.

If only she could go back to December…

She prepared to run, but hesitated.

Her first, one, and only love, Ike's hand was reaching toward her. How she longed to take it, but she knew that wasn't what it was for. As his son hugged his neck excitedly, the plain gold band on his father's fourth finger drew her blurring eyes.

Ike looked in her eyes one last time. He searched deep within them, and beseeched her many things: she saw his forgiveness, his misery for the way things had ended up, his acceptance of her leaving, and one last thing.

Love for her was radiating from Ike's eyes, and Samus knew she would always be in his heart somewhere, even if that ring on his finger was pledged to his wife, and the diamond ring on her own hand didn't rightfully belong to her. Yet at the same time it did; she knew, in that love pooling in his beautiful, ultramarine eyes, that the ring still meant every single thing it had meant seven years ago, and it would never change.

In that sense, love is like a bird. If you let it escape, you can never retrieve it. But if it's kept in an unchanging cage, such as a heart, it is safe.

Because true love is never lost…even if we have to lock it away forever.

Samus ran out of the frozen meadow before Zelda appeared.

* * *

**Thank you for reading.**

**P.S. - _Inspired _by Taylor Swift's song _Back To December._All rights go to her for the song. This story is not meant to plagiarize her work, nor do I think it is plagiarizing. I'm just always inspired by music and I wanted to write something, the scene that was in my mind as I listened to the song. NO PLAGIARISM IS INTENDED! thank you again, and The Stupendous Jimbo, good luck on your judging. :)**

**Was just edited again. thank you for all your reviews! :)**


End file.
